An Encounter of the Terrifying Kind
by Dying Reader
Summary: This is my attempt at writing a horror-ish kind of story. You are the one experiencing the events that unfold during the course of Slender plus a little twist at the end. A short story I completed for creative writing, hope you enjoy!


An Encounter of the Terrifying Kind

The dream was back again. You knew it was impossible to escape it. Every night the same thing, over and over again. Always the same events, always the same horrifying, inevitable conclusion. It was the only thing that disrupted the suffocating darkness around you. However, just because it broke the blackness, doesn't mean that this recurring dream brought you any pleasure. Quite the opposite in fact. So when you found yourself in that familiar dark forest, beads of cold sweat swept over your body, accenting the terror that flashed through your mind. Accepting, but nonetheless terrified of your inevitable fate, you walk into the forest. Your rapid breathing and crunching footsteps echo through the trees in the absence of any night time forest sounds, not helping the growing feeling of unease within you.

Knowing that time was unpredictable and survival an animal-driven force inside you, the search for eight little pieces of your freedom begins. Maybe this time would be different, maybe you would actually get out alive. This was the one desire you hoped for the most, but the strong gut feeling that you were wrong told you otherwise. Gripping your flashlight in your sweaty hand, you sweep the beam through the trees, dreading what may be revealed. A small flash of white reflects the light, causing you to flinch and drop the flashlight. Covering your eyes as tears stream down your face, your panicked cries echo through the impossibly tall trees. Several minutes go by without so much as a single static note and you realize that this nightmare won't be cut to an end. Not just yet. Rising shakily, you grab your flashlight and move towards the white flash of light.

You see that it's just a regular sheet of notebook paper with something written on it in charcoal. You snatch the paper off the tree and read it, even though the haunting message is burned into your memories. _Don't look or it takes you. _Shoving the paper into your pocket, you start running, knowing that the booming, solitary tone ringing through the trees has alerted _him _ to your presence once again. You expect _him _around every corner as you race desperately through the woods, looking for the next page. That's the one thing that changes from dream to dream, where your freedom is located. Otherwise your escape would be just too easy and _he _wouldn't have any fun stalking his prey. You reach the white, cylindrical tunnel and spot the next paper, grabbing it as you run past. Another toll of the same note earlier needlessly tells you that now the hunt has truly begun.

You dash against time and your predator, quickly collecting four more pages from the desolate oil tank field, the jagged teeth of the rock outcropping, the abandoned pickup truck, and the rusted smoke stack. Following the chain link fence that encloses the arena, you sit down to take a breath. You lean against the fence to avoid an ambush from behind and gradually slow your laboured breathing, running a hand through your sweat-soaked hair. You can't stop for long though. _He will_ find you, especially with five out of eight pages stuffed into the pockets of your jeans. Fear and paranoia trickle into your subconscious mind and set you moving again, away from the fence and towards the faint outline of a brick wall. Feelings of dread steadily growing, you approach the wall and circle around it clockwise to meet another page-devoid wall. From above, these walls must look to form a cross as you continue to circle it and meet the next wall that bears your prize. You race towards the paper when the telltale static and crackle in the air shocks your system to the core. Fighting against the paralysis of terror, you tear the paper off the wall and cut to the right, jumping over roots and ducking branches to desperately try and put some distance between the two of you. Hearing the static gradually fading away, you slow down and actually look at your surroundings. The slow haunting beat of the chase fills the air, perfectly in time to your hammering heart as you stumble back, the urge to runaway nearly choking you in all it's primal strength. In front of you stands the building responsible for always trapping and delivering you into his dark, waiting tendrils. You shake your head repeatedly and trip around to face the forest, but static announcing _his _arrival stops you in your tracks. You know what he's doing. He's forcing you into the trap with just his mere presence. Either way he's going to kill you, so you turn around and head towards the restroom facilities. At least this way you have the chance of getting closer to freedom then ever before.

Needless to say, the facilities are a damn scary place to be trapped. Winding tile passages, sharp turns, and only one way of escape drives you into a mental corner as you investigate the building's many twists and turns. Just when you think your mind is about to shatter from the tension, you look down and see it. The seventh page. Reaching down and grabbing it off the bathroom floor, the fervent hunt beat hitches up to an impossible tempo, taking you breath with it. You whip around and see _him_, the static nearly drowning out the spastic beat around you. He stands straight and tall, several feet taller than yourself. His formal black suit is pristine despite having stalked you all throughout this godforsaken place. He is completely still, except for the dark tendrils writhing slowly behind him. You avoid looking at hisface and run down the hall, glad for once you had the sense to keep the exit in sight. The static persists to try and paralyse you, but you never falter as you trace back through the maze to the exit and burst into the cold night air.

Not stopping to enjoy the wide open spaces, you continue forward to the only place the last page could be. Hope, terror, and adrenaline propel you towards the centre of the arena. A giant tree stands forlorn in the small clearing, bearing the eighth and final page on it's trunk. Tuning out the avalanche of chaotic noise thick in the air, you run into the tree and rip the page free. You feel _his_ presence right behind you before the light floods back to your senses and you sit up in your bed, breathing hard.

Looking around with a confused and disoriented gaze by the sudden change, you realize that it was just a dream. A hysterical giggle bubbles up from your throat before you can stop it. Soon your hysterical laughter fills the room as tears of relief and joy fill your eyes. Bouncing up and looking through the window, you see that the rising sun is painting the sky with pinks and oranges, which must have been what woke you up. Finally calm enough to stop laughing like a crazy person, you turn around and get knocked back as a painfully familiar sense of fear comes over you. Your bedroom looks cramped and small with _him_ in it.

Made helpless by fear so close in the wake of joy, you can only cower and watch as he takes a step towards you. As his shadowy tendrils wrap around you like spider silk, he moves his white, featureless face towards you and says in a hoarse whisper, "Did you really think you could escape me? I suppose you did since you can't remember all your other escapes. It's more fun for me when my prey has hope for survival." His disembodied chuckle fills you mind when static bursts into the silence, shattering everything around you as your scream echoes through the empty darkness.


End file.
